


A Thousand Words

by NoirSongbird



Series: Every Breath, Every Hour [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Autistic Character, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Noodle Dragons, Rescue, Satya Vaswani's Revenge Arc, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, background BoomBoxBunny, background ZaryaSombra, mentions of abuse, possibly other background relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8252945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoirSongbird/pseuds/NoirSongbird
Summary: Satya Vaswani and Genji Shimada are soulmates. Despite that, there are a thousand reasons for them not to pursue a relationship.Satya has barely sorted her feelings out about Vishkar after an operation gone wrong leaves her in the hands of Overwatch, abandoned by her former employer. She can barely begin to consider her feelings for the strangely delightful man who has quietly begun to steal her heart.Genji is -- well. Genji is a cyborg, and although he is at peace with what he is, he cannot expect someone else to be. It doesn't matter how much he'd like her to.When Vishkar takes an interest in Genji, however, Satya realizes that to have a chance at a future with him at all, she is going to have to fight. So fight she will.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love soulmate AUs, okay. I just love them. This work will primarily focus on Satya and Genji, with some delicious side McHanzo because I am literally incapable of helping myself and because Hanzo/Satya and McCree/Genji friendships are very important to me.

Genji Shimada learned from a very young age that the words printed on his wrist did not matter and should not matter. The Shimada clan gave very little truck with soulmates - Genji learned early that his parents were _not,_ when he met his mother’s true soulmate, a woman who owned a little ramen shop in Hanamura. Not at all a suitable mate for the only daughter of a powerful _oyabun,_ not when her betrothed was the head of the Shimada clan.

Still, his parents seemed happy enough. And Genji could at least _hope._ The words on his skin were fairly generic; he was sure there had to be something else that would happen when the right person said them, something that would tell him without a doubt that this was his soulmate. Because they were so generic, he felt, there was a chance - a slim chance, but a chance - that it would be someone Genji could actually be with. But Hanzo?

There was absolutely no way that someone suitable for the heir of an extremely powerful yakuza clan would greet said heir with _“well, howdy.”_ Tragic, really, if you asked Genji, but he was sure his brother would find a way to see his soulmate anyway. Or maybe Hanzo would take the Tragic Martyr route and insist he could never have anything even vaguely resembling nice things because of his Duty to the Clan.

Fifty-fifty, really.

As they grew, Genji stopped worrying about it and started worrying about enjoying life. He was handsome, charming, witty; why shouldn’t he have a little fun? He wasn’t the heir, it didn’t matter if he flitted around and wasted his time. Besides, all that responsibility was making Hanzo terribly grim, making him retreat to frowns and long silences and anything but the much more open brother he had known when they were children.

Genji was worried, of course he was - this was his _brother_ and there was obviously something deeply wrong with him. The clan was leaning on Hanzo in ways they never had on Genji, and it was clearly weighing on him. But what could he do? He was just the feckless sparrow, the useless second son; at best he could be a shoulder for his brother to lean on, or at least e the one of them who insisted they do something fun every once in awhile, when he could pry Hanzo away.

It had been bad, when their mother died, killed in a brief turf war with an up-and-coming gang. Father was never quite the same after that, in Genji’s observance; his wife might not have been his soulmate, but he cared for her deeply, and her loss hit him hard. He made it a few more years, but then _he_ got sick, and nothing anyone could do seemed to help, and before Genji even properly understood what he was losing, his father was gone, too.

Now he and Hanzo were all that was left, and that meant that no matter how far Genji tried to fly from his responsibilities, he was roped right back into them. He resisted, he struggled, and he was sure, distantly, that some form of retribution would come, but…

There was a difference between expecting retribution and being prepared for his own brother to _attack him._ To nearly kill him, to leave him barely clinging to life.

It was luck and little else that led Overwatch to him; they had been running operations, putting pressure on the clan, and it was one of their agents that found him, barely clinging to life, and brought him to Dr. Ziegler.

When he was reconstructed, the words - along with his arm, and much of the rest of his body - were gone.

He wondered if, somewhere, his soulmate felt the loss.

 

* * *

 

When Satya was a very young girl, still living with her family in Hyderabad, her mother had told her all sorts of wonderful stories about soulmates. Her parents were soulmates, and they were so deeply happy together it sometimes hurt.

Satya was only a little girl when Vishkar approached her, offering her a better life, and a better life for her mother and father and her brothers and sisters. She accepted, of course she did - and her parents were sad to see her go, of course they were, but it was for the best.

At eight, she wondered dreamily if one of the other Architech candidates might be her soulmate, if they would be her best friend, the first person who understood her and accepted all her quirks like not being able to eat certain foods or hear certain sounds or be around people or even meet their eyes for too long.

That did not happen; what did happen was that no matter how much she cried and begged and pleaded, she was not allowed to call or visit her parents, because for quite a long time they were “still getting settled,” until she simply stopped asking. It was better not to ask.

They told her, a year into her studies, that there had been a terrible accident. Her parents were both killed, her siblings scattered in the social services system.

She wept, and wept, for days, it felt like, but there was only so long she could cry.

Her parents were gone. Her siblings were lost. Vishkar was her family now.

Vishkar, unlike her parents, told her that the writing on her wrist was a silly, pointless waste of time, and that soulmates were an unprovable illusion. Sometimes, she thought of her parents and disagreed, but the longer she was there, the more she began to agree with them. She had only seen her parents’ love as special because she was a silly child, and Vishkar was right to encourage her away from such pointless fantasies.

She dove into her studies, applying herself ruthlessly and aggressively. She would make Vishkar proud that they had chosen her, whatever it took, because that was all that mattered now.

A few days after her eighteenth birthday, she spent a terrible day watching the words on her wrist fade away. They were barely present, for hours, just a faint trace of ink against her skin, and she found herself distracted, glancing constantly at them, praying they would not fade completely. No matter how much she pretended she did not care, she did, intensely, and she feared that the worst was coming to pass - that somewhere in the world, her soulmate was dying, before she even had a chance to meet them.

She did not sleep, that night, curled up in her bunk, terrified that if she did, she would wake and they would be gone. Instead, they slowly faded back in, until the lines were just as bold and sure as they had always been.

Satya let out a tiny, trembling sigh. Her soulmate still lived. She would meet them, someday. She was sure of it.

 

* * *

 

A decade after that terrible, frightening day, Satya Vaswani was Symmetra, fully-fledged Vishkar Architech, and she had a job to do.

She moved quietly through the old Watchpoint. It felt strange, wrong, to be infiltrating a space that used to belong to Overwatch; they were, undoubtedly, a force for good in the world - or they had been, once. There were rumors of a recall, of new agents coming together at the Watchpoint in Gibraltar - but this wa Watchpoint: Numbani, long abandoned and left to rot. There was, Vishkar assured her, relevant data here, things left from a Vishkar-Overwatch partnership back in the organization’s heyday. Why she was here now, five years after the fall, when someone could have been sent any time in the interim, was a question Satya had never bothered to look into.

She should have, perhaps. Certainly after Rio, she had her qualms - she remembered the little girl in the favela, nearly killed because Vishkar was not careful about potential civilian casualties. She remembered all the people displaced from their homes.

She remembered news weeks later that the people had truly rebelled, driven Vishkar out, led by a young man with stolen technology, and she did not understand. Why did they not want a better life, a happier life?

Vishkar had saved her, surely it could have saved some of them, too.

She took a breath and returned to her search, carefully picking through the computerized archive. There was little there, really, nothing she could see of consequence no matter how many variations on parameters she ran.

“Sanjay, are you certain this is the correct Watchpoint?” Satya asked, frownng faintly. “I cannot seem to find any archives of a partnership with Vishkar.”

“Of course I am sure,” Sanjay’s cool, calm voice said. “Perhaps they are in a separate archive?” Satya hummed, briefly, and then nodded, mostly to herself because he couldn’t see.

“They must be,” she agreed, moving from the terminal she was at and deeper into the building. She carefully wrapped her arms around herself, doing her best to avoid touching anything unnecessary - the whole building had the terrible feeling of having been abandoned in a hurry, and it was so terribly dirty, she did not even want to _imagine_ what might be on some of the surfaces.

She found another terminal, and hooked in, and this time her search was much more fruitful.

“I have the data,” she said. “It is downloading now.”

“Very good,” Sanjay praised, and she mentally preened, just a little. It did feel so very good to be appreciated for her talents. She liked doing well, liked pleasing her employers.

There was quite a lot of data, so the download and transmission to Vishkar would take some time - in the interim, she browsed some of the other files on the drive. Nothing particularly interesting, mostly information about Overwatch’s efforts both in collaboration with and in battle against the various Doomfists, other operations in and around Numbani, and a myriad of other interesting but ultimately unuseful data. Nothing else relevant to Vishkar, which was the important thing.

The transmission pinged to signify it was complete, and Satya extracted her drive.

“We have everything. Excellent work, Symmetra.” Sanjay praised, again, and Satya smiled faintly.

“Of course,” she said. She moved back through the building, to the back exit she had taken before, which brought her into a decently-sized but still private alley. “I am out.” She reported.

“Good,” Sanjay said. “I am sorry for this, Symmetra, but the data must be protected. Shield yourself.”

There was a terrible rumbling from the building behind her. She spun, and faced it, and watched as Overwatch’s abandoned Watchpoint: Numbani exploded. Even with warning, she was too slow to bring up her shields, partially because she had not expected to _really_ need them.

Satya went flying, slammed into the opposite alley wall by the force of the explosion and by debris, and slumped on the ground.

It was Rio all over again, she thought slightly fuzzily, except this time Sanjay hadn’t even waited until she was entirely clear. At least this time there was no one caught in the crossfire, no burning favela or dead guards. The Watchpoint had been empty and isolated.

Still, surely a Vishkar extraction team was coming, and they would pull her out and ensure she was treated. She could endure a little injury and a little time in the hospital for the people who had saved her.

It was not a Vishkar team that found her.

The rubble was moved off her, and she could just barely focus well enough to see that it was someone who appeared to be wearing full-body black and green armor. They moved the chunks of stone like they were nothing, shoving them aside and off her. Strong, metallic arms wrapped around her waist, carefully extracting her from the last bits of rubble, and Satya relaxed into them, sighing faintly.

“It’s alright,” a voice said in her ear, slightly metallic, but warm and soft and comforting, “I have you.” Those words were so familiar, words she had stared at on her wrist ever since she could read them.

 _‘Oh,’_ Satya thought, as unconsciousness finally fully crept up on her, _‘I seem to have found my soulmate.’_


	2. Chapter 2

Genji wasn’t sure what kept drawing him back to Angela’s medbay, where the woman he’d pulled from the rubble of Watchpoint: Numbani lay sleeping. She’d been heavily sedated while the doctor tended to her injuries - it had been quite a lot of watching her sleep, which he recognized distantly was kind of creepy, but he felt like he _had_ to be there for her.

Maybe it was just because he’d saved her, so he felt responsible for her. That seemed like a perfectly reasonable explanation. He had helped people before, certainly, but there was something different about actively pulling someone out of the rubble of an exploded Watchpoint and carrying her to the waiting evac transport.

She was beautiful, certainly - and were he younger, he might have accepted that as the reason he kept going back, because once upon a time a woman as lovely as her would have been an irresistible lure. He liked to imagine he was at least a little beyond that, though, no matter how untrue that might be. Still, there was clearly something, and so he hovered around her bed and was silently glad that Angela hadn’t asked why yet.

There was little information on her; Lúcio had indicated she fit the description of a Vishkar Architech seen in and around Rio de Janiero during Vishkar’s initial bid for the contract there, and her prosthetic arm and un were all Vishkar made - she was likely one of their agents, which explained little about what she was doing at an abandoned Watchpoint but suggested it was nothing good or helpful to Overwatch. That was unfortunate; he deeply did not want her to be an enemy.

She began to stir, and he felt a moment of electric fear. He should run, should get away, should at least stop hovering creepily over the sleeping woman he’d never met before. So he turned, and started to leave, but he didn’t get very far.

“Wait!” That was all it took to freeze him. One word, and Genji turned partway around to look back at the woman on the bed, who was staring at him with curious, fierce brown eyes. “Who are you?”

The tattoo on his wrist was gone with his arm. That did not negate all the hours he had spent staring at it for the years he _did_ have it, wondering what kind of person would be the one to speak the words printed there. It was exactly like he had expected, like there was a minor rearranging of local gravity, or maybe just his emotional gravity, because suddenly all he could focus on was this woman - his _soulmate -_ as she pushed herself partially up on one arm, continuing to regard him with mixed interest and suspicion.

Had she heard him when he was pulling her out of the rubble? Did she already know? Did she -- what could he even _say?_ (At least he couldn’t possibly do worse than Hanzo, at this point, who had responded to Jesse’s drawled “well, howdy” by blushing furiously, bowing as if that would cover it up, stammering out “it is a pleasure,” and then bolting. Granted, it would be hard to outdo that level of terribly awkward.)

“Well?” She asked, and he realized that he should probably attempt to say something, because the silence after her question had stretched on for quite a while.

“Genji.” He said, which was a start. “Genji Shimada. I am an agent of Overwatch.” There, look, he had successfully introduced himself _and_ the organization, without making more of an idiot of himself.

“Overwatch,” she murmured, frowning faintly, and then she frowned harder at the space where her left arm should have been.

“Your prosthetic was heavily damaged in the explosion,” Genji offered quickly, hoping to soothe her, “and the doctor had to remove it to treat you, but she can tell you where it is.”

“That is proprietary Vishkar technology,” she said, “and I would very much like it back. I can repair it.” Genji nodded quickly.

“As I said, ask the doctor,” he said. Something in the back of his mind was quietly panicking because she hadn’t mentioned it, and surely she had to know by _now_ because if his words to her while he was gathering her up weren’t the ones tattooed on her wrist, surely his _name_ was, there was no way she was unaware and yet she seemed to be dancing around it.

“I will.” She said. “Now - where am I, and how long have I been unconscious?” It occurred to Genji that she was probably attempting to establish a baseline of her situation before she dealt with the elephant in the room, which, alright.

“Watchpoint: Gibraltar. You’ve been here for approximately three days - your injuries were extensive, and Doctor Ziegler wanted to ensure that you were completely stabilized.” He said. She nodded, briefly.

“I will speak to the doctor, then.” She said simply.

“Can I ask you something?” Genji ventured. She raised an eyebrow, her expression silently but slightly sarcastically urging him to continue. Gods, she was beautiful, he was _so lucky._ “You, ah, never mentioned your name.”

“Oh,” she looked abashed, and that was _cute,_ and that went straight to his heart. “How unspeakably rude of me.” She fiddled with the blanket between her fingers, and he realized slightly belatedly that she wasn’t quite looking at the spot on his helmet that most people treated as eye contact. “My name is Satya Vaswani.”

“Thank you, Satya,” he said. “I’ll, ah - I’ll give you a moment to reorient yourself and see if I can find the doctor so she can speak to you.” He realized that he was speaking a bit quickly, but something was knotting itself up in his chest and he had no idea what to do with the cascade of emotions that continued to threaten to overwhelm him.

“I hope you will return and speak with me again,” Satya said, “I believe we have much to discuss.” Genji swallowed. That was one way to put it, certainly. _Much to discuss,_ as if that even began to cover it.

“I will,” he promised anyway, and he considered it a feat that he walked fairly calmly to the door (because it would be unfair to her for him to run away, when part of him wanted to stay and learn everything there was to learn about Satya Vaswani, Vishkar agent and, apparently, the other half of his soul.)

 

* * *

 

Finding Angela was never difficult - she was rarely far from the medbay. Genji informed her that her patient was awake, and that was all it took to send her right back to it.

Genji went looking for someone else, though, and found Jesse on one of the balconies, enjoying a cigar. For most matters, he would have gone to Zenyatta, who was always an excellent, level-headed teacher, but he had no idea what Zenyatta’s experience in matters of the heart would be, or what kind of advice he might have. Genji had heard some Omnics had soulmates, but he wasn’t sure if Zenyatta was one of them, and -- too many variables.

Also, he was, perhaps, a bit nervous to speak to his Master about the whole thing. Asking his best friend sounded like a much better proposition, even if Jesse was currently in the midst of his own soulmate-related drama thanks to Hanzo being a stubborn idiot.

Jesse regarded him for a moment with an amused grin as soon as he noticed Genji had joined him.

“Angie send you to lecture me ‘bout the habit?” He asked, and Genji huffed a little, leaning against the balcony railing.

“Not this time,” he said, and with no further preamble, decided to jump right into it. “She’s my soulmate, Jesse. The woman I pulled out of the rubble in Numbani.” Both Jesse’s eyebrows flew up, and he whistled faintly.

“Hell of a way to find her,” he said, and Genji laughed, just a little.

“It certainly is,” he said, and he rubbed a hand over his wrist, where the words would be. “I just...don’t know what to do.”

“Y’know, I might not be the best person to come to about this,” Jesse pointed out, waving the hand that held the cigar briefly. “I ain’t exactly having much luck on that front.” He actually looked sad, and part of Genji wanted to _shake_ his idiot brother, because he was being _ridiculous._

“Hanzo is...difficult, Jesse. He has been for a long time. Do not take it personally.” Genji offered, not that he expected that would make it any better. “His dragons like you, he will come around eventually.” It was true - Genji was convinced his brother’s dragons spent more time crawling all over McCree than they did Hanzo, if the two of them were even close to in the same room. Udon and Soba were clearly fascinated with their master’s soulmate, even if Hanzo refused to pursue anything.

“‘Preciate the reassurance,” Jesse said, “but this ain’t about me. Tell me all about your pretty Vishkar girl.”

“We don’t know for certain  that she’s Vishkar,” Genji protested, and McCree gave him a long look. He sighed. “Alright, she’s probably Vishkar.” It wa difficult to admit, to connect the woman in the bed with the company that did so much harm in so many places. He considered their interaction. “She is smart, and went quickly to the point - asked quite a lot of questions, while she was orienting herself. We only spoke for a few minutes, though.”

“That sounds promising, at least. I’m guessing you two didn’t get into a deep discussion about much, then,” Jesse said.

“I did not even properly explain what I...am.” He almost unconsciously vented steam, a stress response. “I have no idea what she thinks I am, underneath all this.”

“An’ that’s the heart of the problem you’re having, I’ll bet,” Jesse cut right to the heart of it, which was exactly why Genji had come to him.

“I have accepted what I am. But...it would be quite a lot for me to ask of someone else, to bind themself for life to a…” He gestured at himself, shoulders slumping. “I am barely human anymore, Jesse,” Jesse opened his mouth to speak, and Genji held up a hand. “I know how most people see me, I am stating a fact, not making a self-deprecating comment.” It seemed so simple, laid out like that. Once Satya knew what he was, soulmates or not, that would be the end of it, surely.

“Well, shit, Genji, she’s your soulmate, ain’t she? Ain’t the point of that kinda thing that she’ll be okay with things like that?” Jesse pointed out. “All the rough edges and whatnot.”

“This is a bit more than a _rough edge,”_ Genji pointed out.

“You could talk to her about it, see how it goes.” The gunslinger huffed briefly. “If you can get her to give you the time’a day.”

(Genji really was going to smack his brother, because _honestly._ )

“She said she wants to talk,” he admitted, frowning at the ground behind his mask even though he knew Jesse couldn’t see it.

“Then _talk to her,_ Genji, damn,” Jesse shoved him gently. “You didn’t need me to talk you into that, did you?”

“I...think that I did,” Genji admitted. Jesse shook his head.

“You’re bein’ ridiculous, Genji. Go talk to her.” He waved a hand, and Genji sighed again, but pushed off the balcony.

“Thank you, Jesse.” He said. “And good luck with my brother. He is stubborn - but I believe that makes the two of you a good match.” Jesse halfheartedly took a swing at him, which Genji dodged with ease, and he found himself grinning behind the visor.

He could do this.

 

* * *

 

He gave Doctor Zieler a little longer with her patient, not wanting to disturb whatever conversation they might be having, and when he slipped back in, Satya was fully sitting up on the bed, one-handedly tinkering with her reattached prosthetic.

“Would you like some help?” He offered. Surely it would be easier to do maintenance with an extra set of hands.

“No,” she said simply, and she gestured at the chair next to her bed without looking up. “Sit, let us talk.”

Genji sat, and all the while prayed that this would be something less than absolutely terrible.

“We are soulmates, it is certain?” There was something in her voice that sounded like hope, but the sort of hope that had been repeatedly strangled and was now afraid to assert itself.

“It...seems that way,” Genji said.

“You said my words,” Satya said, “and when you did, I…felt something.”

“As did I, when you said mine.” He offered, tone as reassuring as he could make it.

“I will not be staying long.” She looked almost sad, as she said it. “I have contractual obligations to Vishkar that will call me back, I am sure, once I can get in contact with them. But…” She finally looked up. “I admit, I am curious about you. Very curious.” She tilted her head to the side. “That is very finely made armor.”

“It is...not armor,” Genji said. He was still reeling a little from her insistence that she _wasn’t staying long._ He should have thought of that - if she _was_ Vishkar, there were rumors about the things they would do to ensure their Architech’s loyalty. One rogue could cause uncountable damage, so it was not at all surprising.

“Is it not?” Satya asked. “You are clearly not an omnic, or at least no model I am aware of, so what is it, then?”

She really did not beat around the bush, at all.

“It is…” Genji sighed, and reached up, carefully detaching and removing the parts of his faceplate and helmet that could come off. “There was an incident, ten years ago. I nearly died. In order to save my life, Doctor Ziegler replaced much of my body with cybernetics.” He said. There it was out - mostly. He left out Hanzo’s involvement, his family’s, everything about the exact _nature_ of the incident, but she didn’t need to know all the Shimada clan’s dirty laundry just because they were soulmates. Not up front, at least.

“Ten years ago,” she said, and her voice was suddenly very quiet as she stared at her wrist. Genji was close enough now to see the words printed there - _“It’s alright. I have you.”_

So she had known since he pulled her out of the rubble. That was...ah.

“I…” Satya swallowed, dragged her eyes away, finally looked back at his face. There was no revulsion, no shocked draw away, nothing but interest on her face. “I am sorry. That must have been very difficult.”

“I have accepted what I am,” Genji replied. He tried not to let himself get too hopeful. She was still planning to leave, to go back to Vishkar. He might only have a few precious hours with her before they came to sweep her and all of their precious proprietary technology away, and then there was no telling when he might see her again. “But - tell me a little about you?” He asked. “Your family, your life - I...would like to know as much as you are willing to share.” She looked almost surprised, like she wasn’t used to people caring.

“I was born in Hyderabad,” she said, “in the slums. Vishkar found me when I was eight, and determined I had an aptitude for shaping hard light. They offered me a place with them, a chance for a better life for myself and my family, but I would have to be separated from them.” Genji felt something cold and unpleasant crawl up his spine. _Eight years old._ Viskar had dug its claws into a _child._ She looked away from him as she continued, back down at her prosthetic, which she began tinkering with again. “My parents died in an accident shortly after I started my training. I have...only had Vishkar, ever since, but they have been good to me.” She took a breath. “I wanted to help make a better world. Vishkar lets me do that.”

“I...see,” Genji said, and he tried to keep his expression fairly neutral.

“What about you?” Satya asked. “Who was Genji Shimada before he was an agent of Overwatch?”

“A very young, very foolish man,” Genji said, and he laughed, just a little, remembering. “I grew up in Hanamura. It is beautiful, and there are plenty of distractions for someone who is willing to pursue them. I was...dedicated to distraction, one might say, and my family always despised it - until…” He gestured to his body. “Overwatch gave me a new start, and after it disbanded, I wandered for a time. I spent the last few years at the Shambali monastery in Nepal, where one of the monks helped me come to terms with my body.” A simplified version, still skimming over so much. He suspected, though, that what she had told him was simplified as well. “My Master is here, actually, and so is my older brother. Perhaps you will meet them, if you are here long enough.”

Satya seemed to consider for a minute, head tilted to the side.

“I would like that,” she admitted. “I am...not sure what we will be able to pursue, of this thing that is between us, but I would like to meet these people who are important to you.”

“I...would be very pleased, if you did.” He said. She gave him something like a very shy, very small smile, and he smiled back, even though all he could manage internally was desperate screaming because she looked _so_ lovely when she smiled, even that shy little thing.

He was so very, _very_ doomed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter includes Satya having a meltdown, during which she causes herself minor injury; please let me know if it's extensive enough to warrant tagging for anything?

Satya sat in the Overwatch medical bay, hands folded in her lap, and considered the mild enigma of Genji Shimada. She had asked him to leave her to rest a little longer, because she was beginning to feel the edge of what she was sure was the truly astronomical amount of pain she ought to be in from her injuries, and because she wanted privacy for when he contacted Sanjay. 

He was...fascinating. Remarkably cheerful given his condition, quick witted, and, were she being entirely open, handsome. The scars on his face hardly detracted; she suspected the same was true for the rest of him, however much of that still existed. She had thought, several times, about asking for more details of the hows and whys and whats of his enhancement,s but it always seemed terribly insensitive, and he had a talent for deflecting from anything that seemed too heavy or emotional, so she had never really gotten the chance.

She wanted desperately to learn everything there was to know about him, but in the interim, there were other issues to attend to.

Genji had left her his phone, unlocked, when she said she wanted to contact Vishkar, admitting quietly that he couldn’t promise she would get hers back, which she resented, faintly, but also recognized as a fully rational security measure. 

She turned the device over in her hands - admittedly, she was a little surprised a cyborg had need of one, but perhaps it helped him feel more human and at ease. She had not asked; she did not intend to. She could not get too attached, soulmate or not; they would have at best a few days while she recovered before she would have to return to Utopaea, surely. Vishkar would need her for more of her infiltration work.

She pulled up the dialpad and dialed Sanjay’s number, suppressing the urge to look at more than what she needed to in an effort to learn a little about who Genji was. She had to get in contact with Sanjay, to ask him what to do once she was able to leave Gibraltar. That was what was most important.

The line rang, and rang, and finally, he picked up.

“Sanjay,” she began, but he cut her off.  


“Agent Symmetra.” There was something in his tone that made her tense, made her want to run as fast and as far as she could, but there was nothing to be done but wait. “I am surprised to hear from you on an unsecured line.”

“I had to borrow a phone,” she said, wincing at the implied criticism of her clear carelessness.

“Actually, after your actions in Numbani, I am surprised to hear from you at all. Destroying a Watchpoint after stealing data from it, in public, in the middle of the day? There were  _ witnesses.” _ He sounded so  _ disappointed,  _ so  _ angry. _ “And now to run off to a criminal organization like Overwatch? Your rogue behaviors have been tolerated before, Agent, but this entire disaster has been several steps too far.” Sanjay’s voice was clipped and cold, and Satya felt like she had been dumped in ice water.

“What?” She asked, voice small. “I don’t understand.” She had never taken any rogue actions. Everything she had done had been completely sanctioned. She had been  _ directed  _ to that Watchpoint, she hadn’t pulled the switch that destroyed it…

She felt herself beginning to shake, panic crawling up through her. No, no, this was all wrong, surely this was some kind of a mistake, a misunderstanding, anything but what it appeared to be.

“Vishkar is finished with you, Agent Symmetra. You have gone too far. You will surrender your photon gun, your visor, and your Vishkar prosthetic, as those are company property, and you will present yourself to the authorities in Numbani to face justice.”

He hung up on her.

Satya had enough presence of mind to set Genji’s phone on the table next to her bed before she twisted her fingers in her hair and  _ screamed.  _ It had been a very, very long time since she’d had a meltdown, and she had foolishly thought she had herself too under control for another one, but it also felt like her axis had been tilted, like everything she relied on was over.

She untwisted her fingers from her hair and wrapped her arms around herself, nails digging into the bare skin of her upper arms as she rocked, sobbing and screaming like her entire world was coming apart - which, as far as she was concerned, it was. 

She heard footsteps, running, and distantly she registered there was a conversation going on near her, but she couldn’t quite figure out who it was between and that didn’t seem to matter.

The bed dipped, and there was someone - Genji - with her, carefully pulling her hands away from her arms, and then she found herself pulled into a hug that was strong enough to provide grounding pressure and gentle enough that she didn’t feel trapped. Genji was silent, but he rocked with her, gently stroking her hair and massaging across her shoulders, and his very presence and solidity was calming, even through the storm of a complete stress meltdown.

Slowly, she came back to herself, screams and tears subsiding, and Genji wordlessly produced a square of cloth she could use to wipe her face a little. 

She winced when she looked up and realized they were not alone - she had known that, sort of, because Genji had spoken to someone, but it was an entirely different thing to look into the wide, warm eyes of Doctor Ziegler and know that she, too, had witnessed Satya falling apart.

“I am sorry you had to witness that,” she said, once she was under control enough to speak, even though her throat was raw from screaming. She squeezed her eyes shut, not ready for the judgement that was sure to come - no one had ever just accepted seeing her melt down before. It was something shameful, to be hidden - under other circumstances, she would have found somewhere she could shut herself away as soon as she realized it was coming. No one wanted to see that. No one wanted to  _ help her through it,  _ either. 

“It’s alright,” Genji said gently, and there was none of the judgement she expected in his tone. His faceplate was still off, and he was looking at her with concern, not pity or horror or anything she had expected.

“Let me get you some water,” Dr. Ziegler said. Satya nodded her thanks, rubbing her throat. She winced a little when she realized exactly how badly it was hurting, and felt a cascade of shame. Her arms ached where her nails had dug in, she was sure her hair was hopelessly mussed, and generally she had to look like an absolute wreck. Doctor Ziegler returned, pressing a glass of water into her hands, and Satya sipped from it gratefully, slowly and somewhat reluctantly disentangling herself from Genji. He felt like safety and security, which was strange because she had only just met him - and yet perhaps not so strange. Both of them were quiet, waiting for her to speak, and she took a long moment to finish the water and set it aside before she even attempted to.

“Vishkar is disavowing me,” she said, very quietly. “They are claiming that I have become - or been - a  _ rogue agent.  _ I am not...I do not understand. Everything I did was appropriately sanctioned.” She wring her hands around the blanket, breathing slowly to keep herself more even. “I have done nothing I was not asked to do.” She knew her voice had to be terribly small, and she  _ felt  _ terribly small. Almost without thinking, she activated her glove and began to anxiously craft hard light, creating a small, soft ball that she squished between her real and prosthetic hands. “I have been asked to return my arm, my gun, and my visor to Vishkar and then surrender myself to the authorities in Numbani. I would...appreciate any assistance Overwatch can provide in helping me do that.” Genji and Doctor Ziegler both looked horrified, as if there was something else that could be done.

The doctor schooled her expression quickly.

“You will not be fit to travel for several more days - your injuries were extensive, and if I’m being honest, the only reason you’re not i an incredible amount of pain right now is that I have very good painkillers in your IV drip,” she said, and then she stood. “We can discuss what you will do after that when you are well.” She nodded, briefly. “I will be in my office - if you need me, press the red button, it will open a comm frequency.” 

“Thank you, doctor,” Satya said, and Doctor Ziegler gave one more, brief nod, before striding out, leaving Genji and Satya alone once more.

“You cannot really intend to go back,” Genji said, and she frowned. He sounded genuinely upset for her - which baffled her, really. Soulmates or not, they had barely met; he had no reason to be so concerned over what was going to happen to her. 

She turned her stress ball over in her hands, shoulders sagging.

“What other choice do I have?” She asked. It seemed so simple to her - Vishkar had cut off all her other options, all she had was surrender and the inevitable scapegoating that would come with it. She could...she could accept that, she supposed. Vishkar had given her everything, it was only fair that she give them this back. It was her fault, anyway; she had been too slow and too stupid in Numbani, and had necessitated this with her own incompetence. Better that she take the fall for the company so they could continue doing their good work.

“You could stay here,” Genji said, quickly. “You wouldn’t be the only one - my brother was an assassin, the Shimada-gumi are after both of us, and Jesse McCree has one of the highest bounties on his head in the United States.” He coughed, briefly. “Mostly for things he did not actually do, because Jesse has a talent for being in the wrong place at the right time, but he is still technically a fugitive.” Satya frowned. 

“I cannot,” she said. “It is...I must do this.” Even if Overwatch  _ could  _ offer her sanctuary, she was sure there would be those among them who would never trust her, and the only end result would be that she was a fugitive, like this Jesse McCree, risking arrest wherever she went.

“Why?” Genji asked, sounding a little desperate. “You must realize that they intend to pin their crimes on you, that they are sacrificing you to cover up what they have done.”

“You would not understand,” Satya said quietly, with a slight edge of bitterness. Few people would. It was a strange thing, to owe a company your entire life. 

“Help me to understand, then,” Genji said, and his tone was gentle, almost pleading, and remarkably he sounded like he actually meant it. Satya swallowed, trying not to cry all over again. It was fine, it had to be. She had no life outside Vishkar anyway; if she lost that, she was losing everything, and she had  _ failed,  _ it was only appropriate.

“I owe Vishkar everything. If the only price they demand is that I take the blame, that is a small thing in comparison to all they have given me.” She swallowed. “Some of the things they had me do were...unethical. In the name of the greater good, so I did them, but to have them revealed as sanctioned would hurt Vishkar, damage their ability to continue to do good work. I cannot allow that to happen. I may no longer be able to be part of making a better world, but I can at least take this fall to ensure it is still possible.”

“Satya,” the way Genji said her name was almost heartbreaking, and she looked away from him, not wanting to see the desperation on his face.

“I am sorry,” she said. “I...would have liked to have a chance to see what we might have been.” She had to stifle a sob, and he reached for her, but she flinched away. “I need a moment alone,” she said quietly, and he stood up.

“Alright,” he said, but before he left, he rested a hand on her shoulder, briefly. “You do not have to do this,” he said, sounding a little desperate.

“Yes,” Satya said, “I do.”

When she was alone again, she buried her face in her hands and wept, letting her little ball dissipate into a shower of light. She didn’t  _ want  _ to do this; she didn’t want to simply accept her role as Vishkar’s rogue agent, gallivanting about and sabotaging enemies and stealing information like some sort of common criminal, as if she hadn’t done all of it in service of the company, in service of the people that had raised her since she was eight years old.

She didn’t want this. She didn’t want  _ any of this.  _ All she wanted was to go home, but home no longer existed for her. All that was left was to accept what had been dealt to her - to do her part, one last time, in ensuring Vishkar could build a better world.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! You'll notice a new relationship got stuck in the actual relationships bar -- that's because when I was working out the plot arc in detail for the rest of the fic, I realized that Jack and Gabe's (very messy, somewhat tragic) story is going to be playing an important counterpart to the rest of the action here, so it gets a bump to top billing!

Genji paced back and forth outside the medbay doors, clenching and unclenching his fists as he went. This was ridiculous. This was absurd. This was...this was cruel.

This was something the Shimada would do, were he being entirely honest. It was the sort of brutally cold, uncaring way of dealing with a problem they would have  _ loved. _ Take someone indoctrinated to be loyal and make them fall on the family’s - or, in this case, company’s - sword. 

Genji had never hated anything quite as much as he hated Vishkar in that moment, picturing Satya’s devastated expression while she talked about throwing her life away for those bastards. He felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and paused his angry pacing for a moment, turning to meet Angela’s gaze.

“We will not let her walk into this alone,” she said, gently.

“You heard her,” Genji said, and he knew his distress was painfully evident. “She believes she  _ must  _ do this, that they...that she  _ owes  _ them, as if they did anything for her but harm her!”

“That is not how she sees it,” Angela reminded him gently. “Is that how you saw your family, when you were young? Do you imagine Hanzo saw them that way?”

Genji sighed, shoulders slumping.

“No, I imagine not,” he acknowledged. He glanced back at the door, longing to push it open and continue attempting to talk Satya around, but she had asked to be left alone and he would respect her wishes. 

Besides, he really ought to talk to his brother.

Hanzo was not exactly difficult to find; both of them had, for the most part, made the higher points on the Watchpoint home. The comm towers, the cliffs - they were watch spots, and the winds and high places felt just a little bit like the mountains of Hanamura and, for Genji, Nepal. Hanzo was waiting by a target range they had set up on one of the cliffs; more accurately, he was meditating, and Genji was by technicality interrupting him.

These practice ranges were the first steps, Genji was sure, in rebuilding the relationship they had as children before the family worked to drive a wedge between them. Before his brother had been, carefully and with intent, drawn away from him and convinced that the only thing that mattered was what the family elders wanted.

“Genji,” Hanzo greeted without opening his eyes. Genji smiled fondly and sat down next to him, in a much more relaxed version of the rigidly traditional  _ seiza  _ Hanzo had taken.

“Hello, brother,” he said, and he was surprised how much just sitting with Hanzo calmed him. Just having him there was a reminder that even the worst of situations could turn out for the better - and there were few situations worse than the one that had existed between him and his brother. Hanzo had tried to murder him, had nearly succeeded. That should have been an ending; there should have been no other path for the both of them than more blood. Yet here they were, both alive and well, slowly repairing their bond and with a fairly hopeful future ahead of them. 

Things were bleak, in some ways, but if they could overcome  _ murder, _ surely...surely lesser hurdles could be jumped.

“Is there a purpose to you seeking me out?” Hanzo asked. “Or did you simply wish to enjoy the sunset?” He gestured, briefly; indeed, the sun was beginning to dip. Genji had chosen an excellent time to be out, it seemed, because sunsets over the Strait were a magical thing. 

“I have found my soulmate - the woman from Numbani. You are my brother,” Genji said, “I thought it was right that you know.”

Hanzo’s back immediately straightened, his eyes flew open, and his head snapped over so that he was looking directly at Genji with slightly wide eyes. Genji had to suppress a laugh; the sight was genuinely fairly comedic.

“ _ What?” _ Hanzo asked, and then, “are you certain?”

“I am,” Genji replied, “I think I would have known even if I had not memorized my words.”

“I am...happy for you,” Hanzo said. “This is unexpected, but it is good news - will she be staying with Overwatch, then? Or returning to Vishkar?”

“It is slightly more complicated than that,” Genji said. “Her presence at the explosion of the Numbani Watchpoint turned eyes to Vishkar -- I am sure they were expecting her to be long gone before anyone arrived, so it could be blamed on acts of terrorism or faulty wiring or who knows what hilarious excuse. Instead, they are blaming  _ her.” _

“The extent of her injuries would suggest she was not involved - only a very foolish bomber would remain  _ that  _ close to the blast site. Surely Vishkar cannot expect this story to hold up.” Hanzo frowned, looking pensive.

“She is prepared to hand herself in,” Genji said, “and if she does not protest, there will  _ be  _ no further investigation.” 

Understanding dawned on Hanzo’s face, and he nodded slowly. Of course he would need nothing else explained - he would recognize this too, the cruelty of loyalty abused.

Genji imagined he might even recognize it better than anyone else at Overwatch.

“I see,” he said, voice quiet. “Do you have an idea of what you intend to do about it?” He asked. “I cannot imagine you or Doctor Ziegler intend to let her waltz off to be imprisoned.”

“I do not,” Genji acknowledged, “but I am not sure what to  _ do.  _ The company threw her aside and she is perfectly willing to martyr herself for them. She believes it a necessary sacrifice so they can continue doing good work.”

“ _ Is  _ Vishkar doing good work?” Hanzo asked, half-rhetorically. “I imagine Lúcio would disagree; there is most certainly further evidence that Vishkar is not as upright as she thinks it is. Destroying her illusions may be the way to save her.” Hanzo exhaled, casting a glance back out at the setting sun. “Sometimes foundations need to be shaken to build something better.”

Hanzo would know, Genji supposed.

“I will speak to Lúcio, then; I imagine he will have a number of opinions on the situation.” Many of them, Genji suspected, would not be particularly generous towards Satya or towards Vishkar, but after what Vishkar had done to him, and to his home, that was not exactly unfair. “Thank you.”

“I am glad you will have this chance,” Hanzo said quietly, and then he stood up to leave; Genji stood with him and caught his arm.

“I am not the only one who has a chance, Hanzo,” he said, and Hanzo tensed and frowned. 

“That is personal,” he said, and Genji affected his best “really” look without having to remove his mask. He was used to projecting exaggerated body language, and at times like this, it was intensely helpful; clearly, it worked to crack his brother’s icy, sharp-tongued resolve, because Hanzo’s shoulders sagged and he broke eye contact. “I am aware of what I have been given. I think it is unfortunate that fate would attach a man such as him to one such as me.”

“You can at least consider speaking to him,” Genji said. “It is, I think, unfair to not even offer an explanation. Do not let someone else suffer for your self-flagellation.” That, and there was little chance Jesse would accept a response like that without comment. There were a number of reasons Genji thought Jesse would be very good for his brother, and the cowboy’s certain unwillingness to let Hanzo wallow in self-loathing was high on the list.

“I will speak to him,” Hanzo said, but he sounded less than pleased about the prospect. Genji let out a little huff, barely loud enough to be picked up by his helmet’s microphone.

“Give this a chance, Hanzo. We aren’t with the clan anymore; you can have things just because you want them, now,” Genji offered, hand moving from Hanzo’s arm to rest, more supportively, on his shoulder.

“It is not that simple,” Hanzo said, and he pulled away, posture shifting subtly but just enough that it was clear he was walling himself off. Genji withdrew; better to take a step away than to push too far and end up pushing Hanzo further away.

His brother left; Genji stayed, settling into a meditative position himself, watching the fading ends of the sunset as night fell over Gibraltar.

Lúcio would be a good start - he might know where to look for evidence of Vishkar’s misdeeds. Figuring out how to present it to Satya would be entirely another issue. He couldn’t simply dump it in her lap - that would be unfair. Shaking her emotional foundations like that might, in the end, make her resentful and mistrustful. 

That was the most difficult part, he supposed - figuring out exactly how to broach the subject with her. Soulmates or not, they had barely known each other for a day, and here he was, desperately trying to pull her away from an organization she had trusted her whole life. An organization she trusted  _ with  _ her life. He was the interloper here, and he had to remember that.

Just because they were  _ fated,  _ in some cosmic way, did not mean he could take her trust for granted. He couldn’t take  _ anything  _ for granted; there were too many stories of soulmates separated by position and circumstance. There was even Overwatch’s own terrible story of soulmates torn apart. 

Everyone had always just sort of known, after all, that Jack and Gabriel were soulmates - it wasn’t something that was discussed, it simply  _ was.  _ And if all reports out of Zurich were to be believed, their story had ended in fire and death.

Genji was determined not to let that happen to him and Satya - or to Jesse and Hanzo. Their stories would end better. He would make sure of it.

 

* * *

 

“I wasn’t aware Vishkar hired outside contractors.” If they ever had, Reaper was sure, he would be aware. He paid attention to what companies like Vishkar were doing. He’d been especially interested in Vishkar  _ lately,  _ since one of their agents was accused of blowing up an old Watchpoint.    
  
“This is a...unique situation,” the man on the other end - Sanjay Korpal, some Vishkar executive, the one who had arranged this little chat, was visibly uncomfortable, and that was fascinating. “And we are not hiring you  _ yet. _ ”

“Then why are you wasting my time with this conversation?” Reaper asked, adding an extra layer of menace to his voice. Korpal actually scooted back a few inches from the screen, even though they were separated by many thousands of miles. “I don’t enjoy having my time wasted.”

“Are you aware of the unfortunate incident with our rogue Architech, Satya Vaswani?” Korpal asked, voice trembling ever so slightly.

(God, it was nice to see people properly terrified of him.)

Reaper nodded, and gestured for him to continue. Having been the victim of a smear campaign, Reaper was fairly certain he knew the signs; he deeply doubted Satya Vaswani was actually guilty as charged, but frankly, that wasn’t his problem. 

“We are very interested in retrieving her, and have given her a date by which to surrender herself, but we have reason to believe Overwatch will not allow her to do so.” Korpal said, and by the end he had even gotten that tremble mostly under control.

“And why is that?” Reaper asked. It sounded like the sort of hopelessly good thing Winston or Lena would do, really; as he understood, those two were the ones heading up this new Overwatch. Just thinking about it made him sneer behind his mask. Fucking  _ children,  _ imagining they could recreate a heroic fantasy of Overwatch that never existed. It had always been rotten; he hadn’t realized how much until the floor fell out from under him and took everything he loved with it.

Everything  _ Gabriel Reyes  _ had loved, he reminded himself.  _ Gabriel Reyes  _ was dead.  _ Reaper  _ had no one.

“We have reason to believe that Overwatch agent Genji Shimada is Satya Vaswani’s soulmate.” Korpal said. Subconsciously, Reaper rubbed at his wrist, at the infernal words that refused to disappear no matter how many times he dissolved and remade his body. Soulmates were, on the whloe, a bit of a sore subject for him. “We suspect he may attempt to interfere in attempts by Vishkar to recover her, and that he might convince other Overwatch agents to do so. If that  _ does  _ happen, we will require your services to enter Watchpoint: Gibraltar and recover her for us.”

Genji was stubborn, always had been in his experience, and would absolutely go to absurd lengths to protect his soulmate, if this Vaswani really was her. Vishkar was right to be suspicious, but Reaper wasn’t going to tip his hand regarding the level of his knowledge of Overwatch by saying so.

“Is that all,” Reaper said dryly. “Break into an Overwatch base, fight through God only know how many fool recruits they have, and get out with someone they  _ don’t want to let go.” _

“You will not be alone,” Korpal said. “Vishkar will provide reinforcements. But as I understand, this would not be your first time breaking into Watchpoint: Gibraltar, and your knowledge of the base will be invaluable.”

That was true enough, besides, he knew Watchpoint: Gibraltar like the back of his hand, had lived there, had --

_ No.  _ Gabriel Reyes lived there.  _ Gabriel Reyes was dead. _ No matter how many stubborn bits of him seemed insistent on staying alive.  _ Reaper  _ had broken in on Talon’s request to attempt to steal the agent database. (Not even Reaper was willing to hand Talon  _ that.  _ No matter how much he hated so much of what Overwatch stood for, there were too many innocent names on that list. He’d intended to keep it for himself, maybe have Sombra send them a slightly scrambled copy, but that hadn’t been necessary, in the end.)

“Contact me again if you determine you require my services. We’ll negotiate payment then.” Reaper said, and then he hung up the video call.

Back to Gibraltar. The prospect sounded unpleasant, especially now that there would be far more familiar faces there.

On the other hand, some of those faces were ones he’d really like to put a shotgun round through. 

“Sombra,” Reaper growled, seemingly into thin air, but the hacker appeared in the faint shimmer of her tac-cloak disengaging. “Start finding me all the information you can on the current Overwatch roster. I think we’re going to need it.”

Sombra gave a quick nod, and multiple screens bloomed in front of her as she started to work.

Overwatch, if it was up to Reaper, was going to have a  _ very  _ bad day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I'm _really_ excited to get where this story is going, so it might...get updated rather quickly, in the coming weeks, as Things Start Happening o/ Whoops.

Satya was quickly coming to enjoy that the medbay at Watchpoint: Gibraltar gave her plenty of peace and quiet. Doctor Ziegler made infrequent check-ins, just to make sure she was doing alright, but for the most part, no one bothered her. That was...good. She appreciated that, appreciated being totally unbothered by anyone else. Liked the idea that she could have this space to herself, even if all she was doing with it was creating and destroying little bits of decorative hard light. Nothing useful or functional, even though perhaps she ought to try to make something grand - something to leave with Genji, and with Dr. Ziegler, to thank them for what they’d done, when she was gone.

Perhaps, though, it was best not to do that. Better that she simply came and went like a ghost, and left no memory of her presence, since her leaving was so inevitable, and she was going somewhere from which she would not leave quickly.

She hoped Numbani prisons were at least decent, but perhaps as a convicted terrorist - which was what she would be - and corporate saboteur there was little she could expect. Besides, she was certain that once Numbani was done having their bite at her, other places would follow.

Brazil, she imagined, would be particularly hungry for blood, after what happened in the  _ favelas.  _

Regardless, she would not be coming back to Overwatch, to Gibraltar. She would never see Genji again once she handed herself over to the authorities, and that was that. 

It was sad, she supposed, that their story would end this way. Even in the tragedies, didn’t lovers usually have more  _ time? _

Romeo and Juliet had a whole  _ week.  _ With the deadline Sanjay had texted her -  _ texted her, _ \- she had barely three days. Doctor Ziegler had been transcendently furious, but Satya had quietly insisted, and finally she had broken down. Overwatch’s own legendary pilot, Lena Oxton, would deliver her to Numbani in three days’ time. 

She wondered if she would get a chance to talk to Agent Oxton. She wondered if Agent Oxton would want to talk to her. Agent Oxton, after all, was a real hero, and Satya was…

Satya was, she supposed, with a tiny note of alarm, the sort of person real heroes saved the world  _ from. _

It wasn’t that she was in denial about her activities - she  _ knew  _ what she had done on many, many occasions as Symmetra had been desperately, terribly wrong. Illegal, immoral, choose your standard of wrongness - and she had done them anyway, because they were in service to making the world a better place. Still, she had no doubt that much of Overwatch saw her as a villain, or as a blind child, and that was...disconcerting. She was young enough to have been raised on stories of Overwatch heroism from her parents, and then on talks of future business partnerships from Vishkar, who expected that every young and high-achieving Architech might get lent out to the organization at one point or another.

Of course, the rapid switch after the organization crumbled had been a bit emotional whiplash-inducing, but...well.

Overwatch had crumbled from dissent from within, without order or structure, and fallen into inevitable chaos.

So far, this new version had been good to her, but...they were still by and large criminals. Even Genji had admitted that, confessing to housing wanted men like Jesse McCree and Hanzo Shimada. 

She ground her teeth, briefly.

It did not matter.  _ None of it mattered.  _ It was  _ no longer her problem.  _ Nothing was her problem, anymore, except satisfying Vishkar’s demands that she turn herself in and ensuring the company could continue doing its good work. The scandal of a rogue Architech would pass. The scandal of her activities being sanctioned would not. That was all there was to it. She had to choose the route that would cause the company the least amount of damage.

The personal cost was not at all a consideration. It  _ wasn’t.  _ It  _ couldn’t be.  _

Satya’s musings were interrupted by the door opening. She expected Doctor Ziegler.

It was not Doctor Ziegler.

Her eyes widened a tic, and she knew her surprise had to show all over her face.  _ Lúcio Correia dos Santos  _ was not someone she expected to see.

“You,” she breathed, “I had heard rumors that you were with this -” she almost said something disparaging, but that would be unfair to the people who had saved her life, “organization.”

“Uh, yeah,” Lucio said. “Look, I heard you were here and - can we talk, for a minute?”

“If you are here to tell me about Vishkar’s misdeeds or imply I should not accept their judgement,” Satya said, “no. Otherwise, perhaps.”

“Yeah, not that,” Lucio said. “Genji mentioned who you were, and - I guess I had to see you in person.”

“To put a face to the enemy?” Satya asked, dryly. She knew what Lúcio likely thought of her. There was no reason to pretend. She was an easy, present face of the company he had pushed out of his home. She was certain he bore Vishkar - and, by extension, her - rather a lot of enmity. 

“Not exactly,” Lúcio admitted. “Do you remember a little girl named Rosa?”

“Yes, I do.” Satya remembered the girl leading her through the  _ favela  _ when she was lost, and remembered barely pulling her from the burning rubble after Calado’s building exploded, and it made her shudder, briefly.

“She told me about you,” Lucio said, “about how you saved her. I dunno, that doesn’t sound like an enemy to me. That sounds like somebody who’s probably a pretty decent person.”

“I am still the one who caused the fire.” Satya said, bluntly. “I was in Calado’s building just before it exploded, attempting to find blackmail material. There was none. Vishkar chose an alternate route.” She stared at her lap, almost relieved to have finally confessed to it. “If I had been more thorough, perhaps none of that would have happened. Rosa would never have needed saving.”

“That really what you think?” Lúcio asked.

“It is what I know.” She replied blandly. Emptily.  _ Detach, detach, do not get overwhelmed by emotion in front of this man. _

“I think you’re wrong,” Lúcio said, and then he stood up. “Vishkar wanted the  _ favelas _ gone, they were gonna get gone.” He dusted imaginary dirt off his suit. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s a lot more important that your first instinct was to save a little girl than it is that you followed orders when you worked for Vishkar.”

“I still work for Vishkar; your use of past tense is premature.” Satya said primly. Lúcio frowned.

“My bad; I thought they’d fired you,” he said. Satya winced.

“Yes, well. It is a bit more complex than that.” How much of her situation was gossip across the base? It made Satya suddenly uncomfortable - but she had sworn no one to secrecy, and...and as best as she could tell, the intent was to help her. To relieve her burdens.

It was almost  _ strange,  _ to know there were people who wanted  _ her  _ to be happy for  _ herself,  _ not for the  _ company.  _

“I don’t get it,” Lúcio admitted. “You clearly feel terrible about what you did for Vishkar, and what happened to the  _ favela,  _ and what they’re doing to you is  _ uma facada nas costas  _ \- so why are you still with them? What do they have on you?”

She didn’t quite understand the Portuguese idiom - she spoke  _ some  _ of the language, enough to get by, mostly - but contextually she could guess.

“Vishkar gave me  _ everything,”  _ Satya replied, “Vishkar  _ is  _ everything I have. They have been since I was a little girl. And what happened to the  _ favela  _ was an accident. The fire spread faster than expected. That is...that is all. Just like what happened to me in Numbani. If I had been quicker in making my exit, or in protecting myself, I would not have been caught in the blast.”

“Is that really what you think?” Lúcio asked.

“Of course. What they are doing is necessary to protect the company, and the sacrifice of one person who was foolish enough to make a mistake is not nearly as important as protecting Vishkar’s interests.” Satya shrugged her shoulders.

“Do you even  _ hear  _ yourself?” Lúcio asked. “You’re saying it's worth it to throw your life away for them?”

“Everything I have is because of Vishkar.” Satya said quietly. “It is only fair that when they ask, I give it back.”

“ _ Meu deus como você é trouxa,”  _ Lúcio grumbled. That one, she definitely didn’t know, but she got the idea it might not be flattering.

“Excuse me?” She asked. 

“Never mind.” He shook his head. “Good luck,” he said. “I...really think you should think hard about what Vishkar’s doing, Miss Vaswani. I know they gave you a lot, but...is it really worth it?”

“I will take your opinion into consideration. Mr. dos Santos.” Satya said. Lúcio gave her a brief nod, and then he was out the door, and she was alone again.

It took her a long while to decide to do it, but Satya paged Doctor Ziegler, asking her for a tablet.

If Vishkar was so wrong, and so terrible, the way Lúcio seemed to be implying, surely there would be evidence. Surely she could find it. Surely….surely there would be  _ something. _

Left with nothing but her thoughts and a dragging exhaustion she suspected was either from her injuries or from the medication used to treat them, Satya curled up on the bed and settled into an uneasy sleep.

 

* * *

 

When Lúcio walked back into the rec area, it was enough to briefly draw Genji’s attention away from the fighting game he’d challenged Hana to.

A bad idea, as she very eagerly trounced him.

“Eyes on the screen,” Hana said cheerily, and then “ _ hey!” _ when Lúcio dropped onto the couch and slung his legs into her lap.

“Your girl is stubborn as hell,” Lúcio said.

“She isn’t my anything,” Genji pointed out, as the match began, “except for my soulmate; we’ve only known each other for a few hours.”

“Yeah, okay,” Hana said dryly, nudging Lúcio with her elbow to get him to move so she had more space to play, “but she  _ is  _ your soulmate, that’s definitely something.” She would know, Genji supposed; Hana and Lúcio were the particularly lucky sorts who were part of a soulmate triad, even if their third was a bit...complicated.

Genji wasn’t stupid, he could see all the aggressive side-eye he got from the Junkers. He could also see the side-eye they gave Zenyatta and Bastion. Still, he was hopeful that Hana and Lúcio might at least eventually talk  _ Jamison  _ around. The Junkers, Genji assured himself, were still getting used to things around Gibraltar, that was all it was. Surely. 

“Either way,” Lúcio said, “you weren’t kidding, she really is in pretty deep with Vishkar. Like,  _ really  _ deep.” 

“I noticed,” Genji said dryly, “about when she agreed to go along with this terrible ‘take the fall for everything they made her do’ plan.” 

“Do you have a plan to talk her out of it?” Hana asked. “I mean, I know ‘get Lú to talk to her’ was plan A,” she said, and then she swore asGenji executed a combo that got him a ring-out victory, “but that didn’t work, so what’s plan B?”

“Right now,” Genji said, “plan B is ‘hope she changes her mind.’” Both Hana and Lúcio gave him disbelieving looks. “I never said it was a  _ good  _ plan.”

“It’s a  _ terrible _ plan,” Lúcio said. “Vishkar shouldn’t get to keep destroying people’s lives, especially not their  _ own  _ people’s lives.”

“So we keep her here,” Hana said, “it’s that simple.”

“If we do that,” Genji said, “we are no better than them. We’d be making her decisions for her, just as Vishkar does.” 

“Ugh,” Lúcio groaned, “this is all bullshit.”

“Yes,” Genji agreed, “it is.”

 

* * *

 

When Satya woke from her nap, she was not alone.

There was not another person present, no - it was something else, a weight on her chest like an affectionate cat. 

No one had mentioned a Watchpoint pet; that seemed odd. 

No one, at  _ all,  _ in any way, had mentioned what she saw when she sat up, which was a  _ dragon.  _

A small one, Eastern, green and serpentine, with wide, bright eyes and a fairly indignant expression. Clearly, her sitting up had disturbed it from its perch, but it settled rapidly back into her lap.

Entranced, she reached down to run her fingers down the dragon’s back, eliciting a low purr from the creature.

“Oh,” Satya said, a tone of wonder in her voice. The tablet she had asked for, she noted distantly, was on the table next to her, but for the moment she was consumed with fascination. The dragon trilled and lifted itself on its hind legs, forelegs resting against her chest as it regarded her with interest.

“I see you’ve met Ramen,” Doctor Ziegler’s voice distracted her, and she glanced up.

“Ramen?” She asked, stroking a finger between the dragon’s antlers. “Is that its name?”

“That is his name, yes; he is Genji’s...spirit companion, of sorts.” The doctor explained. Satya hummed.

_ “Remarkable.” _ She said. Part of her wanted to disbelieve, but the evidence was right in front of her, warm and solid and trilling under her hand. “Thank you, by the way, for the tablet,” she added.

“Yes, well, I don't imagine you’re going to bring down Athena with  _ that,”  _ the doctor said lightly. “I hope you can find what you need. I will be heading to the kitchens, Agent McCree is making his - terribly unhealthy, if I must admit - chili, and it is truly excellent. It’s a bit like a spicy beef and bean stew - would you like me to bring you some?”

“I have never...had chili,” Satya admitted. Vishkar would not have approved; her diet was strictly regulated. She felt a brief spark of rebellion - she could have  _ this,  _ in this moment. “I would very much like to try.”

“Good!” Doctor Ziegler said brightly. “It isn’t the best for you, but I think you can afford to eat a little unhealthily after the week you've had.” She gave a broad, conspiratorial wink, and Satya laughed, just a little.

“Thank you,” she said.

“No trouble at all,” the doctor wave her off, and left the medbay. Satya reached for the tablet, and as soon as she did, Ramen settled in her lap.

Might as well get started researching, while she waited.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ai, Gabi,” Sombra said, making Reaper turn his head.

“I told you not to call me that,” he snapped. Sombra rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,  _ la santa muerte,”  _ she said dryly. Reaper huffed, gesturing for her to go on. “Anyway, our Vishkar girl just logged onto a tablet on the Overwatch servers.” 

When he’d broken into Gibraltar, Reaper hadn’t just extracted a large portion of the data list. He’d also downloaded one of Sombra’s brilliant little pieces of code - a backdoor into Athena that kept them well and updated on Overwatch’s activities. 

“And?” Reaper asked, bored.

“ _ And, _ ” Sombra said, “I have an  _ incredible  _ chunk of dirt on Vishkar. If you want to make sure she doesn’t show up for their little rendezvous, I can forward it directly to her.”

Reaper sat up. Now  _ that  _ was an idea - a twofold strike. Number one, a blow against Korpal and his company, by shattering the loyalty of one of their prized Architechs. Number two, it would ensure that Vishkar required his  _ assistance  _ to recover her, which ensured he would get to go after Overwatch again. After Australia, he was feeling  _ particularly  _ interested in some revenge.

“Do it.” He said, sharply. “Let’s make sure that when Miss Vaswani makes her decision, she makes it knowing all the facts.”

 

* * *

 

It popped up fairly quickly after Satya began to search for information on Vishkar on the tablet.

_ HELLO, SATYA VASWANI. WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW THE TRUTH? _

Satya stared at the bright purple text, and at the reply prompt underneath it. This was not an application she had opened; it was one that had been opened for her, and she was not sure she could trust it.

_ Who are you?  _ She typed back.

_ A FRIEND. OR, I COULD BE. I SEE YOU ARE LOOKING FOR ANSWERS ABOUT VISHKAR. _

_ NOW, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW THE TRUTH? _

_ \---->Y  
\----->N _

There was no longer a text input, merely two buttons, projected over the screen.

_ Yes, or no.  _

A binary choice.

She chose.

 

* * *

 

When Angela returned to the medbay, she found Satya surrounded by projections of documents, studying them with interest. Ramen was settled around her shoulders, making low, comforting rumbles. 

“Hello, Doctor Ziegler,” Satya said. “I think that I have changed my mind. I won’t be flying out to Numbani to turn myself in after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both of the bits of Portuguese Lúcio uses are idioms helpfully provided by buttons on the OWG server; the first basically means "a stab in the back" and the second is an insult for someone who is very, very obviously being tricked.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always a big thanks to the OWG Discord for betaing and encouragement~

Satya spent another day in the medbay, alternating between numbness and occasional quiet sobs when she was awake, though she slept through most of it. It was easier to sleep and ignore the monumental amount of processing she had to do. It...hurt, to have irrefutable proof that everything she knew had been a lie. She’d handed the tablet over upon request, so that Athena and Winston could begin tracking the mysterious invasion, and so that they could begin sorting through the absolutely monumental amount of data that had been delivered to her. Satya had wanted to pretend she cared about being involved, but she was just...tired.

She was tired of dealing with the realization that she was nothing but a pawn, that she had...that she had been  _ played,  _ for  _ decades,  _ since she was a  _ child.  _ She had grown up with a lie, surrounded by people who insisted Vishkar was working for the Greater Good.

Vishkar was not working for the Greater Good, unless the “Greater Good” was a euphemism for “making executives very, very rich.”

She was so  _ stupid.  _

So she slept nearly the entire time - once or twice waking hazily to the feeling of a hand in her hair, one that was a little cooler and more metal than a flesh hand would be. It was soothing enough to put her back to sleep, and she was glad to have it, and to have Genji’s comforting, solid presence. As soon as he’d heard she was staying, he’d come in bright and eager, but seeing the state she was in had clearly put a damper on his excitement. He’d shifted quickly from celebratory to comforting, and she was fairly certain he’d stayed with her the entire time. 

He was certainly eager to walk her out of the medbay once she could stand, and he guided her through the door with a broad, easy smile. It was...interesting, to say the least, how comfortable he seemed around the base with his mask off, and she wondered how much of wearing it was for the benefit of other people, outside of combat.

“There’s a room set up for you - I’m guessing Vishkar isn’t exactly going to send on your things,” his tone was light and humorous, enough that it actually made her smile a little, “so I’m sure the others will be happy to take you shopping, at least for essentials if you don’t want anything else.”

“I am not sure how I will purchase such things - I do not have access to my Vishkar accounts any longer,” Satya said, feeling a little guilty. Genji waved a hand.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, a little loftily. “We have a few members who brought in decent amounts of money - and if you’re really concerned, Hana can probably get a donation stream going for you. For the low, low price of getting utterly humiliated at a video game, you’ll get plenty to spend.” He sounded entirely serious, and Satya had to pause.

“...Was that a joke?” She asked. It was difficult, when tone was ambiguous and he seemed to be doing his best to keep an entirely serious facial expression.

“Only partially,” Genji said. “In all seriousness - we’re glad to have you, Satya.  _ I’m  _ glad to have you.” He stopped in front of one of the doors lining the hallway they’d turned to. “This one is yours.” He stepped aside, and let her press her hand to the print scanner that served as a lock; it beeped, and the door opened.

“Welcome to Overwatch, Agent Symmetra,” the electronic feminine voice Satya had come to associate with Athena, the base’s AI, greeted warmly.

“I am not an agent of Overwatch yet,” Satya said gently.

“My apologies, Miss Vaswani,” Athena said.

“None are necessary,” Satya said. Genji watched with light amusement as she took in the room - bed, bedside table, dresser, work desk, but very little else. Simple. Clean. Organized. 

“This is where I leave you to get settled,” he said, “unless you’d like me to stay?” He sounded hopeful enough that she almost felt bad refusing.

“I think I need to be alone,” Satya said honestly.

“Of course,” Genji gave a brief bow. “Comm me if you need anything.” He pulled a device from the pocket of his sweatpants and tossed it to her. “That’s yours. My number is in it, and so is Angela’s - Doctor Ziegler’s. You can send a text or a voice call, either will work.”

“Thank you,” she said, and meant it.

“Of course.” He paused, for a moment, in the doorway. “I meant what I said. I am glad that you chose to stay with us.” He gave her a warm smile. “I...look forward to having all the time in the world to get to know you.”

He stepped into the hall, and Satya was left alone.

 

* * *

   


The first thing Satya noticed about her new room was that it was quet. Blessedly, wonderfully quiet. The medbay had not been -- too many miscellaneous equipment noises, too much of the doctor moving around, too many people in and out -- most of whom had well wishes for her, though she had been a bit off-put by the cursory once-over and huffed “she’ll do” from the vigilante who called himself Soldier: 76, as if he had any authority over her - but well wishes and good intent could only do so much to ease the anxiety and discomfort caused by  _ that many people  _ being  _ that present,  _ all the time.

So the quiet was blissful, and she just...laid down and enjoyed it. For once in her life, there were no demands, no rigid schedule to follow, and while part of her was distantly panicking over the loss of routine, she decided very firmly that she would simply work out a new one once she had a better understanding of how Overwatch operated.

She had spoken briefly with Winston, the current head of the recalled group, and she would have to make time to speak with him further, to discuss what useful role she could play at the Watchpoint.

She was not...ready, she did not think, to leave it, not yet.

But that would be for later. For now, she had a room, and it was  _ hers,  _ and she rather liked the sound of that.

 

* * *

 

When Genji returned to Satya’s door, he swore he could hear humming coming from inside. It gave him pause; he didn’t want to interrupt, so he just leaned against the door and listened as she progressed from humming to full-on singing. It wasn’t Hindi, he could recognize that much - his years in Nepal had included picking that language up.

Genji liked languages; he would have to ask her if she could teach him hers. 

Finally, he talked himself into knocking, and there was a pause in the singing from inside. 

“Yes?” Satya asked.

“I wanted to ask,” Genji began, and he wanted to kick himself because he was almost stumbling over words and he hadn’t done that since he was a  _ teenager,  _ “if you wanted to come down and get dinner? You don’t have to stay, I know everyone can be a bit overwhelming, but you can get something to eat and there are a few quiet places to sit.”

The door slid open, and there was Satya, hair pulled into a neat bun, in a fresh-looking outfit - _where had she_ _gotten that,_ he wondered, before the obvious answer presented itself - and he could see a number of small objects decorating the room - tiny hard light constructs, he realized, small things that added a little brightness and color. Animal figurines, a white lotus, a few other things. It might have been a fit of exuberant crafting, but it was still a sign that she was happy enough to settle in.

“I would like that,” she said. 

“Good!” Genji said, perhaps a little too cheerily. He wanted to smack himself, because he was being  _ ridiculous.  _ She was a woman, she was not the first woman he’d ever been attracted to, and yet here he was fumbling like a schoolboy with a crush.

“Show me to the mess?” She asked. “Who is cooking?”

“Mei-Ling Zhou -- she’s a,” Genji started.

“A climatologist. World famous. I...did not realize she was here.” Satya’s face had lit up, eyes wide and bright. “She is  _ incredible. _ ”

“Go down to the lab sometime, I’m sure she and Winston would love to talk to you,” Genji offered. 

“I will.” She offered him an arm, and he took it, starting to guide her towards the mess. “For now, food.”

 

* * *

Genji brought her to one of the higher spots on the Watchpoint, at the top of the comm tower, and she let out a tiny gasp at the view. He settled into a seat and watched her out of the corner of his eye as she stared in awe for a long moment before sitting down herself.

They had plates piled high with a spicy pork noodle dish; Mei always went well and overboard, and she had insisted they take plenty, especially since she noted Satya had not been eating regularly. The flavors were strong enough even for Genji to taste; the sense, and his sense of smell, had not entirely survived the cyborg-creation process, but strong enough scents and flavors were still detectable.

He was glad that everyone on the Watchpoint - except, sometimes, Lena - had a palette for such things.

“I sent an official resignation and refusal to Vishkar,” Satya said, after a long silence. “The response was….less than pleasant. I forwarded it to Winston.”

“That bad?” Genji asked.

“A threat to ensure that I return by whatever means necessary,” Satya elaborated, “which I took as a threat against the Watchpoint as a whole.”

“It may well have been,” Genji said, feeling faintly disturbed. They were operating in a gray area of the law -- would Vishkar find support from the UN if they chose to try and recover Satya by force? 

He glanced over at her, carefully eating her noodles and trying not to be too obvious in her enjoyment. 

“I will not let them take you if you don't wish to go,” he promised. She froze, for a moment, and he wondered if he had overstepped, but then she looked over at him with wide, grateful eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, quietly. “It has….been a long time since someone has offered to help me.”

“Yes, well.” Genji said, giving her a sunny smile, “now you have me. And everyone else, here.”

“Yes,” Satya agreed. “I do.”

 

* * *

When the attack came, it was swift and terrible.

Vishkar gave no warning - and worse, it was not  _ just  _ Vishkar. With them were the Talon wraith Reaper and hacker Sombra. They descended on Watchpoint: Gibraltar like an invading army - but the people there were ready.

 

* * *

Jack Morrison - Soldier: 76 - hadn’t expected to be in the middle of a battlefield this soon after coming to Watchpoint: Gibraltar. He’d expected to have some time to prepare, but Vishkar clearly had other ideas.

So, fine. They wanted to fight? He’d give them a fight.

He had just finished putting down a small group of Vishkar grunts - mercenaries, if he had to guess - when it happened.

“Hello, Jack.” 

The low, dark rumble made him spin, and he found himself staring into the dark eyeholes of Reaper’s bone-white mask.

He acted entirely on instinct. A hand snapped up, and he grabbed the mask, tearing it off.

Whatever Reaper had expected, that clearly wasn’t it. He staggered back, throwing a hand up in front of his face, but it was too late. Jack had already seen exactly what he was looking for.

He’d known, on some level, that it was Gabriel under there - that the dark shadow hunting Overwatch agents was the man he’d once loved. The man he still loved, were he being entirely honest.

Knowing in the abstract and  _ seeing  _ with his own eyes made for a very different sort of feeling.

“Gabriel,” he said, and he took a step forward, reaching out a hand. They were barely feet apart; if Jack had really wanted to, he could have crossed the distance and touched Gabriel’s face. Because it  _ was  _ Gabriel’s face - after Ana’s reaction in Egypt and her refusal to speak of it, he’d almost expected a void, or something equally horrible, but it was….it was Gabriel. A sallower Gabriel, with strange red eyes and black sclera, and more scars than had ever been on Gabriel’s face before, but it was, undeniably,  _ Gabriel.  _ He would have known that face anywhere. Hell, even if the eyes weren’t the familiar deep brown, he knew them, too.

He’d played this out a thousand times in his head, in dreams and fantasies to ease the agonizing loneliness of the vigilante life. Usually, it featured him hitting his knees and begging for forgiveness, or pleading with Gabe to  _ explain everything,  _ but neither of those things were exactly viable in the middle of a fight.

“Gabriel Reyes is  _ dead _ ,” Reaper snarled, “because  _ you  _ left him to die.” 

“No,” Jack said, quiet but insistent. “God, Gabe, what the hell have you become?” 

“A dead man walking,” Reaper replied. “Revenge given physical form.  _ Take your pick.” _

“I see you’ve retained your flair for the dramatic,” Jack deadpanned, and Reaper snorted, almost reflexively.

“I  _ wish  _ it were dramatics.” He reached into his coat, producing a pair of shotguns, and Jack took a step back. “Get out of my way, Jack. I’m here to help Vishkar recover their Architech. That’s it. Putting you in the ground would just make for a satisfying emotional bonus.”

Hell. Gabriel wouldn’t  _ kill him,  _ would he? This was  _ Gabriel,  _ the man who’d had his back in everything for as long as they’d known each other. His soulmate. But with as wrong as everything had gone between them, could he really be sure of anything?

He hadn’t believed, for a long time, that Gabriel was behind what happened in Zurich. It didn’t make sense. That wasn’t the man he knew. They’d fought, and come apart, and Jack had, towards the end, been terrified that soulmates or not, Gabriel had stopped loving him -- but he never thought Gabriel hated him enough to want to  _ kill him. _

Now, staring into Reaper’s eyes, he wondered.

He never got the chance to find out.

There was an odd sound, a humming, and then a bright blue orb smacked into Reaper’s back and he collapsed forward.

Jack caught him without thinking, holding the unconscious man against his chest - definitely unconscious, he could still feel faint breaths - and he looked for the source - and there was Vaswani, holding her odd Vishkar gun, flanked by the Shimadas and McCree. 

“What was  _ that?”  _ Jack asked. 

“An energy drain,” Vaswani replied, brief and professional. “He will sleep for quite some time - I thought capturing one of the infiltrators would be helpful.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, a little dazed. 

“Will you require further backup?” Vaswani asked. Jack shook his head. 

“Let me cover Ga -  _ Reaper.”  _ He said. “We can sort out proper detention after we get Vishkar off our base.”

“I’ll stay with ya,” McCree said. He frowned, dark and solemn. “Ain’t letting him slip away. Not now.” He gave a meaningful look to the unconscious Reyes, mask still missing, and Jack felt his chest clench. Of course McCree would want to stay. At the end of the day, however McCree’s leaving Blackwatch had gone, he and Gabe were as close as father and son. Obviously, that still meant something to McCree.

“Alright,” Jack said. He carefully set Gabe’s unconscious body against the nearest wall, and hefted his gun.

“May I?” Vawani asked, gesturing over the light output of her prosthetic. Jack watched as a projection of a cube made of light, perhaps eight feet by eight feet, appeared surrounding him and McCree and Reyes. “I would recommend that you and Agent McCree step out, Soldier, but I believe this will provide containment for the time being, should he wake up sooner than I anticipated.”

It seemed wrong, to confine Reyes to some kind of magic glowing cage, but...it was the best option. He stepped out of the confines of the cage guiltily, and McCree followed, and Vaswani made a gesture and there it was, solid, clear like glass but - Jack confirmed by tapping with his fist - much harder.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly.

“Mighty fine trick, that,” McCree said. Vaswani nodded.

“Hard light is incredibly versatile.” She said. 

“Not to put a damper on things,” Genji said, “but I do not think we should linger. Not when Satya is the primary target.”

“No,” Jack agreed. “Go.” 

“‘Fore y’all run off,” McCree said, and he gave the elder Shimada - Hanzo, Jack reminded himself, though he hadn’t taken much time to get to know the man - a long, significant look. “Kiss for luck, sugar?”

Jack expected a scoff, or a laugh, or maybe, if McCree was half the flirt he clearly thought he was, for the cowboy to actually get a kiss, and he prepared himself for that to feel like a kick in the chest so close to being reminded of how badly things had gone for him. Instead, Hanzo got very serious.

“You want neither my luck nor my kisses, McCree,” he said, and then he turned away, striding off. Genji let out a frustrated huff, following after him, and Vaswani went with them. McCree actually looked stricken for a moment, and then he sighed.

“It’s a work in progress,” he said, as if Jack had demanded some kind of explanation.

“I got that idea,” Jack said. “Now c’mon, these Vishkar bastards aren’t gonna wait around, and we’ve still gotta find that hacker Reaper brought with him.” McCree gave a sharp nod, all business.

“Yes, sir.”

 

* * *

Across the Watchpoint, Sombra slipped between dark hallways, making her way towards the lab that Reaper had pointed out for her on the map. Her integrated HUD let her overlay her route on the actual Watchpoint, and at that point it became...well, it became  _ following the yellow brick road,  _ because she was fond of that old movie, and the song stuck in her head easily.

Except there was someone else on her yellow brick road - not a tin man or a scarecrow, but a woman, tall and muscular and hefting a gun that Sombra recognized. Except the last time she’d seen it, it had been on the arm of a  _ mech. _

That meant there was only one person this could be. Aleksandra “Zarya” Zaryanova, Russian hero and liaison to Overwatch.

She was carving through Vishkar mercs, and Sombra actually took a moment to consider if it was her problem or not before deciding that the least she could do was  _ pretend  _ to care about the outcome of the mission and not just about getting her hands directly on Athena.

She had some  _ theories  _ about that AI, but she would have to wait on confirming them. 

She slipped up behind Zaryanova, raising her hand, and activated her hack - beams of purple light going from her fingers to the gun.

_ “Que tal?”  _ She asked, playfully, and Zaryanova spun, swinging her gun, and caught Sombra in the stomach, which the hacker really had not expected. Before her mind caught up with what was going on, she was on the ground and there was a strange bubble around her, and when she tried to push through it, it refused to give. 

“Get comfortable,  _ khoroshen'kaya,  _ you are going to be in there quite a while.” Zaryanova said.

Sombra made a noise of shock, eyes darting to her left wrist. She peeled up her glove and down her sleeve, and yes, there were those exact words, though the little bit of Russian was in Cyrillic. 

She’d learned Cyrillic, once, just to know what that word was.  _ Pretty little thing. _

Sombra watched the other woman’s eyes widen, too, and she checked her wrist like it was just hitting her, and then she shook her head.

“No.  _ Nyet.  _ Absolutely not.” She said, firmly. Sombra gave her a long, slow smile.

“Oh,  _ reina guerrerra,  _ I think  _ yes.” _

 

* * *

 

Genji pulled Satya down a side hallway, and behind them, Hanzo fired off a scatter arrow, sending fragments flying to cover them as they dodged another group of Vishkar mercenaries. Chatter from Overwatch agents flew across the comms, updating situations and guessing numbers. Agent Zaryanova had captured another Talon infiltrator; Agents Song and dos Santos were helping cover the omnic Bastion, with backup from one of the Australian Junkers; Agent McCree and Soldier: 76 were holding their position.

“We have to get out of here,” Genji said, and Satya nodded, exhausted. 

“They will keep chasing me until they have me,” she said. “I can...get us out. A teleporter. It will not take us far, but...far enough, I hope.”

“Do it,” Genji said. “Hanzo?”

“I will remain here and cover you,” he said. Genji nodded sharply, and Satya danced the teleporter into existence, a lotus bloom of elegant metal lines and glowing blue light.

“Step through the portal. I will follow you. Hanzo, when we are through, shoot the teleporter pad. Shatter it.” Satya said. Hanzo nodded shortly, and Genji moved to the teleporter. Satya caught his arm, and then leaned up, pressing a kiss to his metal cheek. “For luck,” she said.

Genji slid off the lower half of his faceplate, leaned over, and caught her in a long, proper kiss. Satya sighed, resting her hands on his cheeks and holding him there until they absolutely had to break for air.

As first kisses went, she supposed, it was a fairly excellent one.

“For luck,” he agreed, and then he reaffixed the faceplate and stepped through the portal.

She was about to follow him through when 76’s voice crackled over her communicator.

“What the hell just happened? Why did Genji just show up in the middle of a bunch of Vishkar goons?” He asked harshly. Hanzo whipped his head to glare at her, and she shook her head.

“I...what?” She asked. “I do not understand. I created a teleporter to help us escape, he just went through it…”

“A Vishkar design?” Hanzo asked, voice low.

“Yes…?” Satya said, frowning. “All of my designs are Vishkar.”

Hanzo made a tiny growling noise, drew back his bow, and shot the teleporter.

“It is compromised.  _ Move.” _ He grabbed her arm and none-too-gently began to haul her off.

_ Compromised.  _ Compromised. 

“We’ll get down there an’ get Genji, don’t y’all worry,” McCree promised, his drawl soothing even in such a terrible, panicky moment. 

Somewhere in the distance, something  _ exploded,  _ and there was a loud, pained cry that sounded like Agent Song and a series of deeply distressed beeps that sounded like the Bastion unit. 

“Shit!” 76 growled. “McCree, get Shimada, I’m gonna go find out what the hell that was.”

“Yessir,” McCree replied, and Hanzo tugged on Satya’s arm again, and she stumbled behind him, feeling guilt eat her up. Whatever happened to Genji, whatever other casualties there were, they were  _ her fault.  _ She had done this.

She was a fool to think Vishkar would let her go.

 

* * *

 

From the comfort of his office in Utopaea, Sanjay Korpal watched the feed of the assault on Watchpoint: Gibraltar with interest. Both of the mercenaries had failed, miserably, but that would be reflected in their paycheck - or lack thereof. 

“Director,” his operation leader said, and Sanjay leaned forward, “we have secured the secondary objective, but we are taking heavy casualties.”

“Retreat,” Sanjay said. “The secondary objective should make a fair bargaining chip to ensure the traitor returns to us.” 

“Yes, sir,” the man on the other end said, and Sanjay leaned back to watch as his mercenaries fell back in perfectly organized chaos, two Architechs hauling an energy-drained Genji Shimada between them.

Her soulmate would make the perfect leverage to ensure Satya came home, eventually. Until then, however, the cyborg who, if recorded footage of Overwatch operations was to be believed, could summon some form of dragon spirit would make a  _ fascinating  _ science experiment.

Waste not, want not, after all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exciting news!! This fic now has a tie-in story, [Triptych](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10511310/chapters/23196741) by Indian_Ink, that's all about Lucio, D.Va, and Junkrat. :D I'm super excited for this, it's off to a really exciting start and it'll also cover in more detail some things that are glossed over in this fic~ Please read it okay.

After the attack, everything was chaos. 

Jesse had tried, desperately, to get to Genji, but Vishkar had swept him away too quickly, and then their hired help had pulled back too, and all Overwatch was left with was a few dead mercenary bodies, two prisoners, and a critically injured Hana Song. 

Reaper -  _ Reyes, shit, _ Jesse was absolutely not used to the idea that Reyes was still alive - was still unconscious, and they were fumbling for a cell that would contain him. Sombra, the hacker Zarya had captured, was mouthing off something fierce, and also making some of the worst attempts at flirtation he’d ever heard come out of a real human’s mouth.

Other people were handling the prisoners. Angela had Hana’s condition as under control as it was gonna get, and it was technically not actually Jesse’s place to sort out everything that had  _ led to  _ her getting put in the medbay, though he was fairly certain he’d eventually have to remind Hanzo of that, too - that is, if Hanzo would even listen to him. Reyes and Sombra were being contained by Zarya and Winston, and most of the rest of Overwatch was getting their collective wounds licked. 

_ Most. _

There were two people missing -- and Jesse supposed he couldn’t be surprised, because it was Hanzo and Satya, and if anyone was going to need some time alone after what had happened, it would be them. But somebody had to make sure they were okay, and with everyone else tied up in cleanup efforts, Jesse figured that was going to have to be his job. 

There wasn’t much else he could do, anyway. He wasn’t equipped to help in determining what the best prison was for an angry Reaper or a hacker who literally could not be parted from her equipment. He couldn’t help put Hana back together. He could do a little to clean up debris, but there were plenty of other hands on that. 

“Hey, Miss Athena?” He asked, tilting his head back and looking up - he tended to speak in the general direction of the cieling when he spoke to her, if a terminal wasn’t directly present.. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Miss Vaswani and the remaining Mister Shimada got off to, would you?” 

“I do, Agent McCree. Allow me to direct you,” Athena replied.

“Thank you kindly, ma’am,” Jesse said, and he set off to follow her directions.

 

* * *

 

He found Satya first, though it wasn’t exactly easy even  _ with  _ Athena’s directions. When he realized where she was, he thought long and hard about interrupting her - because a girl who had curled herself up in a  _ closet,  _ with all the lights around her off, was not exactly going out of her way to give off the impression that she wanted to be found. So he knocked, lightly, on the closet door, rather than yanking it open and possibly startling her and making the whole thing worse.

“You need somebody to talk to, Miss Vaswani?” He asked. There was a long silence, and then a sigh.

“I suppose,” the voice that came from inside did not sound at all like the otherwise composed Architech he’d seen during the attack, and in the days before it. It sounded like a sad, broken woman who absolutely needed someone to talk to.

“It okay if I open the door?” Jesse asked.

“Yes,” Satya said from inside. Jesse opened the door, and then sat down, because Satya was huddled in a corner making herself as small as possible, and looming over her wasn’t going to make this any easier.

“How’re you doing?” Jesse asked. “I know this can’t be easy for you.”

“I…” Satya began, and then she let out a tiny sob, leaning forward and resting her forehead on her knees. “I should have gone back. None of this would have happened if I had surrendered as originally planned. I should go back  _ now;  _ Vishkar is looking to ensure my return, they will happily bargain for Genji.”

It was absolutely heartbreaking to see how willing Satya Vaswani was to throw her life away for someone else. Jesse couldn’t pretend he didn’t understand - he’d been like that once, fanatically loyal to Blackwatch and so convinced of his utter worthlessness that he’d been all too eager to give himself up for whatever worthy cause seemed at hand.

It had been Reyes who’d broken him of that -- Reyes who, after one particularly spectacular self-destructive display, had pulled him aside and demanded to know why he was so eager to die. Reyes who insisted that it was harder, but far more worthwhile to  _ live _ for a cause than to  _ die  _ for it. 

“You really think that’s how Genji would want to see things go down?” Jesse asked her. “‘Cause I’ve known him long enough to know that it ain’t.”

“Genji might not,” Satya said, voice a little sharp, “but you cannot tell me that many of his comrades -  _ your  _ comrades - would not have preferred that it were me who stepped through that teleporter and into the middle of a Vishkar squadron.”

“And Genji would’ve gone right after you,” Jesse said, “and then we’d’ve lost you both, and God knows who  _ else. _ ” It was all too easy for him to picture - Satya ending up waist-deep in trouble, Genji flying through the teleporter after her to try and help, and Hanzo going after both of them because standing by and letting Genji get taken away from him wasn’t exactly something Jesse imagined Hanzo was particularly eager to do. The only reason he hadn’t, Jesse suspected, was because someone needed to stay with Satya.

“Or perhaps they would have only taken me, and your Overwatch would be down nothing but one Architech who is not even properly one of your own.” Satya said, and her tone indicated she believed that to be a perfectly logical response.

“You’re Genji’s soulmate,” Jesse said, “even if half the team wasn’t fond of you anyway, that’d make you one of us no question.” Satya lifted her head up, looking distinctly startled.

“I feel almost as if you mean that,” she said, sounding like it was a strange concept she couldn’t quite grasp - like the idea that someone might like her was entirely foreign. Maybe it was.

“I do.” Jesse said. “You’re one of us, and that means we’re not letting you go waltzing back off to some corporation that thinks they can control you. We’ll save Genji, don’t you worry, but it ain’t gonna involve you sacrificing yourself. Genji’d hate that.” 

“I suppose,” Satya said, though she didn’t sound particularly convinced. “Agent McCree?”

“Jesse,” he corrected.

“Jesse. It would...not be too much trouble to ask you to sit with me for a moment, would it?” Satya asked.

“Not at all,” Jesse said, shifting so he was in a more comfortable position. “Take as long as you need.”

 

* * *

 

Jesse wasn’t sure how long he sat in silence with Satya -- might have been an hour, might have been more, but she desperately needed a friend and he’d be damned if he left her alone. Finally, she let him guide her to the mess hall, and as soon as they got there, Mei swept her away.

“Come sit with Lena and I,” Mei said. Satya looked surprised, but she let the shorter woman guide her to a table. Jesse took a quick look over the mess -- Hanzo was still missing, no surprise. So was Morrison, which was even less of one.

Jesse made up two plates of food, and then headed for the practice range. That was where Athena said he’d been, and given Hanzo’s….everything, it felt like a fair bet that he’d still be there. 

He was - and he looked absolutely exhausted. His shoulders were shaking as he drew back his bowstring, and his aim was  _ radically  _ off. The arrow ended up in the wall next to the target, nowhere near the perfect bullseyes Jesse was used to seeing from Hanzo. Hanzo swore, viciously, and grabbed another arrow from the stand next to him, lifting the bow back up.

“Hey, darlin’,” Jesse said, and Hanzo jumped, dropping the arrow and spinning to face him.

“Oh,” Hanzo said, when he realized who was there, shoulders slumping and nervous energy draining out of him. He set his bow down against the stand, and looked almost glad to have an excuse to set it aside. “McCree.”

“Brought you something to eat, thought you’d probably want it.” Jesse offered the plate and a bundle of utensils, and Hanzo blinked, looking confused for a moment before the kindness entirely registered with him, and then once it did he stepped away from the range and took the offered food from Jesse’s hand.

“Thank you,” he said, and he started toward the benches on the side of the room. Jesse followed him over, and they ate in silence at first. 

“How’re you holding up?” Jesse asked, after a long moment. Hanzo’s head jerked up, and he narrowed his eyes.

“This is not going to change my stance on…” he made a gesture with his fork, swirling it over the plate, “us. Or the feasibility thereof.”

“That ain’t what this is about,” Jesse said. “You’ve made your decision, I’m not gonna push. I just want to make sure you’re okay, what with what happened to Genji and everything.” 

“I…” Hanzo started, and then he shook his head. “I failed him. I should have been the first through, to test the teleporter - it should have occurred to me that Vishkar might attempt to hack Vaswani-san's designs.” 

“You couldn’ta known,” Jesse pointed out. “Satya didn’t even suspect. She might not’a even known how much control Vishkar has over their teleporters.”

“I doubt they informed her,” Hanzo agreed. “Were there any other casualties? Besides Genji and Hana?” 

“Nah,” Jesse replied. “We got pretty lucky, all things considered. Some damage to the base, and Torbjorn’s all hot about that, but we’re just fine, and the base’ll come back together.” He exhaled. “Shit, I’m more worried about how things are gonna go down with our prisoners.”

“They are Talon agents, yes? That suggests a worrying collaboration.” Hanzo seemed eager for the change in subject, so he didn’t have to keep discussing himself, and Jesse was happy to let him redirect things.

“I’m not sure,” Jesse replied. “Everything we’ve heard on Reaper makes it sound like he’s for hire, and there ain’t much at all to find about Sombra.”

“Hm,” Hanzo leaned back against the wall, considering. “You seem to know Reaper.”

“You...could say that,” Jesse acknowledged. “I knew  _ Gabriel Reyes _ . The man he used to be. Dunno that I know  _ Reaper _ all that well.”

“Tell me about him,” Hanzo said. “It could be useful to know our enemy.”

“Shit,” Jesse shook his head. “Hate thinking about him like that. As an enemy.” But there wasn’t another word for it, was there? Reaper  _ was  _ an enemy, and he’d chosen to be one. He’d helped attack their base, he’d….he’d looked ready to kill  _ Jack,  _ before Satya intervened.

If anything told Jesse that something deep down had changed about Gabriel Reyes, that did.

“It is...difficult,” Hanzo acknowledged, “to see those we once knew that way.” And Hanzo would know, if anyone did, Jesse thought. After all, he’d fought his own family after he realized how wrong things were with them.

“Gabriel was like a father to me,” Jesse said. “Scooped me up when I was 17, after Blackwatch came in and tore apart the gang I was part of. Bunch of wannabe Hell’s Angels calling ourselves the Deadlock Gang.” Hanzo nodded along, clearly listening intently. “He gave me a choice - I could either rot in prison, or join his black ops outfit. Guess what I picked,” he raised an eyebrow, and Hanzo let out a little amused snort.

“So he mentored you?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Jesse acknowledged. “He was a good man, Reyes. Morrison was the hardass, Reyes treated us all like one big family.” He paused, for a moment. “You know, Genji was in Blackwatch with me and Reyes. Back in the day. Dunno if he ever told you.” 

“He didn’t,” Hanzo said, and all amusement left his face.

“Reyes took one look at that angry, screwed up kid, same as he’d taken one look at me, and decided he was gonna make sure he was okay.” Jesse sighed. “He really was a good man, Hanzo, I swear. And he loved Jack, more than anything. They were every stupid cliche about soulmates. And then London happened.”

“The Omnic uprising, in 2069,” Hanzo said.

“Right,” Jesse nodded. “Shit had started going bad before that, but that’s when it went  _ real  _ bad. Blackwatch was under investigation, we were all deactivated, but Gabe sent me to London anyway, ‘cause he knew we’d need to help out. And then there was the actual Overwatch intervention, and...it was all real messy and real public and real  _ bad,  _ and the UN tried to throw Gabe under the bus, and things got real bad between him and Jack for a while.” He shook his head. “Got bad enough fast enough that I resigned. Got my ass out.” 

“Given what happened, you may have saved your own life,” Hanzo said gently. Jesse wanted to ask how he knew, but of course he knew. Everyone knew. Everyone knew that Gabriel Reyes had finally lost it, had turned on Overwatch, and had killed himself and his soulmate in the process.

Except that obviously wasn’t the whole story.

Jesse was surprised to feel a hand resting on his, and then a reassuring squeeze, and looked over at Hanzo, who was very deliberately  _ not  _ looking at him or at their now-joined hands.

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed, trying not to feel giddy. “I might have. And, hell, he’s here now. Might finally get some damn answers.”

 

* * *

 

Jack leaned against the glass wall of the converted isolation chamber they’d set up as a cell for Reaper. It wasn’t exactly the  _ best  _ option, but it was a hermetically sealed environment, designed for people with severely infectious diseases, and they could be fairly certain it would hold even Reaper’s smoky, inhuman form. There was also a wireless intercom system set up, so the patient - or, in this case prisoner - could communicate with those outside.

Jack had been watching Reaper -  _ Gabriel  _ \- pace back and forth across the room for a solid ten minutes, watched him dissipate his form and spread over the space, looking for any crack or crevasse he could slip through, and watched his mounting frustration that he couldn’t find one.

“Congratulations.” Gabriel said, and the distorted growl he’d affected as Reaper was gone. “You managed to trap a smoke monster.”

“I don’t like doing this, Gabriel,” Jack said. “I don’t want to keep you in there.”

“I told you, Gabriel Reyes is  _ dead. _ ” He snapped. 

“Please,” Jack said, “don’t do this. Just talk to me.”

“Fuck off.” Gabriel snapped. “You gave up the chance to talk five years ago.”

“Gabriel, please, I know I screwed up --” Jack began.

“ _ Gabriel is dead! ” _ The growl was back, dark and echoing, and Reaper slammed a fist against the wall - hard enough that it actually wobbled. Jack took a step back, feeling a jolt of actual, real fear.

Mostly, though, he was pissed.

If this was how Gabriel -  _ Reaper  _ \- wanted to do things, fine.

“Maybe he is,” Jack said, and then he aimed for the low blow, because that was what their relationship had become as Overwatch fell apart around them. “Gabriel Reyes never would’ve handed Genji Shimada over to Vishkar. You can’t be him, since that’s exactly what you did.”

He took a moment to watch the absolutely stricken expression that wrote itself across Gabriel’s face, to watch him stumble back from the wall, before he turned on his heel to leave.

_ Fuck  _ Gabriel. Let him stew in his anger and his resentment, like he always had. Jack didn’t need him. No matter what the words on his wrist said. No matter how much leaving him behind hurt. No matter  _ what. _

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on tumblr at [noirsongbird](http://noirsongbird.tumblr.com/)!


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